


We Are Returning By the Road We Came

by Sendnukes



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Drama, Durincest, Eventual Happy Ending, Fíli and Kíli Live, M/M, Mostly Canon Compliant, Mutual Pining, Post BoFA, Sibling Incest, Slow Burn, Thorin Oakenshield Dies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-18 09:11:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14209893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sendnukes/pseuds/Sendnukes
Summary: Somewhere along the journey that redeemed Thorin and then lost him, the journey that made Fíli a king and Kíli his heir, something changed between him and his brother. Something that feels like they're standing on the edge of a cliff and coming home all at once.





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Tolkien work, please let me know if you see any mistakes in lore, language, etc! This is all canon compliant except that Fíli and Kíli survived the BoFA.

_Give me your hand, my brother, search my face;_

_Look in these eyes lest I should think of shame;_

_For we have made an end of all things base._

_We are returning by the road we came._

 

_Your lot is with the ghosts of soldiers dead,_

_And I am in the field where men must fight._

_But in the gloom I see your laurell’d head_

_And through your victory I shall win the light._

 

_-To My Brother, Siegfried Sassoon_

  
  


Kíli’s vision was obscured by gold; rippling, shining gold, sliding through his fingers like water. He closed his eyes briefly, pushing away the fever that he knew lived deep in his blood, passed from Thorin to him.

 

_No, not gold. Honey, wheat-fields_ , _leaves in the autumn, the petals of the flowers that grew on the side of the mountain. And it’s not gold sickness, it’s something else; something equally as consuming._

 

With trembling hands, he unwound his fingers from where they’d become tangled in his brother’s hair, and stepped back from the embrace. Fíli smiled at him quizzically, accustomed to his brother’s touches but unsure what had provoked him this time. He knew the by the way Kíli clutched at him that he was upset and Fíli tried to ignore the exhaustion that had settled in his bones, tried to figure out what had happened to make Kíli so agitated.

 

“Did Dwalin reprimand you, _nadad_?” Fíli questioned, thinking back to earlier that afternoon when he saw the older dwarf pull Kíli aside. He hadn't yet had a chance to ask Kíli what had transpired between the two in private.

 

Kíli nodded glumly, liquid brown eyes dimmed with shame.

 

“And what did he say?” Fíli asked, biting back a smile.

 

“He told me it was “unbefitting’ of a son of Durin to run through the Great Hall ‘like a child’.”

 

“And you disagree?” Fíli asked teasingly.

 

“I was just having a bit of fun.”

 

Fíli couldn't help himself anymore. Chuckling, he clapped Kíli on the shoulder. The flash of his brother's dimples and dancing blue eyes, the same color as the precious jewels being mined miles below them, had Kíli’s heart leaping in happiness. It had been a long while since he'd seen Fíli truly smile - not since Thorin fell.

 

“You’re always having a bit of fun, Kíli.”

 

Kíli couldn't help but return the smile, Fíli driving out the embarrassment of being yelled at by Dwalin, as he always did. Kíli couldn't count the number of times he'd slunk back to Fíli’s side after Thorin or Dís had scolded him. It was always Fíli who made him feel better, no matter what.

 

_It was always Fíli._

 

“Come to dinner, then?” Fíli asked, his eyes dimming again and Kíli took a moment to mourn the loss of the blue flame, “We've a long day tomorrow.”

 

Kíli's stomach twisted at the words. Tomorrow, Fíli would become King Under the Mountain and Kíli, his heir. Although he had known this day would come since he was a babe, Kíli still couldn't wrap his mind around how quickly that day had come, and the price they had paid for the throne. As it did at least a dozen times a day, the memory of Thorin's blank, unseeing eyes and his skin, pale and cold like marble, rose unbidden in Kíli’s mind. He swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat.

 

_I never wanted this_.

 

Fíli had been a perfect heir, obedient and regal, save for the times Kíli dragged him into his foolishness, as Thorin has called it. It was Fíli who had spent his life preparing for duty and honor, and as Kíli thought about the coronation the next day, he felt a surge of pity for his older brother. How hard had it been for Fíli to wake each day knowing what was expected of him? Fíli had carried the burden well, but Kíli knew now, more than ever, the toll it must have taken on him.

 

As if he could read his thoughts, Fíli stroked a gentle hand through Kíli’s own tangled strands, dark as the onyx that studded the dwarrow’s swords.

 

“I am sorry that my burden is now yours,” Fíli said quietly.

 

Kíli fought against the urge to close his eyes and nuzzle into his brother's hand, a battle that he'd been losing for a long time.

 

“Don't apologize,” Kíli whispered, humbled, as always, by his brother's unwavering protection, “I am sorry that it is your head on which the crown must rest.”

 

Fíli smiled at him again but it didn't reach his eyes. Kíli knew his brother enough - knew him better than himself - to know Fíli was scared. A lifetime of Thorin's tutelage had not prepared Fíli to be king, not really. They had all thought they'd have more time. More time for Fíli to learn how to be king and for Kíli to learn how to be an heir.

 

_There was never enough time for that._

 

Unable to resist, Kíli stepped closer, reaching for his brother again but stopped when he saw the guarded look in Fíli’s eyes, the slightest angling away of his body. It was not the first time Kíli felt the sting of rejection. Somewhere along their journey, in the rolling hills of the Shire, the treacherous cliffs of Hithaeglir, the dark canals of Esgaroth, something had changed and shifted between them. It had no name and no form in Kíli’s mind but he knew it all the same. No longer was Kíli allowed to wrap himself around Fíli in his sleep, or braid his brother’s hair, or even lean against him around the fire, easy and comfortable as it had been all his life. It had only been in Mirkwood, on the dark twisting paths, that Fíli had relented, letting Kíli grasp his hand. The sudden loss of the physical contact Kíli had known since the day he was born both saddened and angered him, but most of all it confused him. Kíli did not know what had changed between them, only that something had, something they could not speak of. Kíli ached to touch his brother, to be near him, in a way that he never had before, and yet Fíli denied him, shying away from his touch as though it burned him. That Kíli had been allowed to touch Fíli just a moment ago was surprising, but the stiff way Fíli held himself in his brother’s embrace did not go unnoticed by Kíli, nor the tentative way in which Fíli touched his hair.

 

“It is a privilege to be King Under the Mountain; we would both do well not to forget that.”

 

Kíli barely managed not to roll his eyes. _You can’t fool me, brother._

 

“Aye,” he said instead, “But that does not make it any easier.”

 

Neither spoke for a moment but Kíli knew they both thought of Thorin, of the weight he always seemed to carry on his shoulders, even when they were younger and Thorin not so hardened by the world. Their respective musings were cut short by a quiet knocking at the chamber door.

 

“Enter,” Fíli called and Kíli was struck by how kingly he already sounded.

 

Bofur smiled ruefully at them from the doorway. “You’re wanted in the Great Chamber.”

 

Fíli and Kíli sighed at the same time, not an unusual occurrence for them. When Kíli made to follow the other two, however, he was stopped by Bofur, who struggled to meet Kíli’s eyes.

 

“It was . . . requested that only Fíli attend.”

 

Kíli felt as though he had been slapped across the face. He was used to his brother being the important one, not being invited to some mind-numbing meeting wasn’t what bothered him. It was the idea of being seperated from Fíli that staggered him. Even if Fíli hardly ever touched him anymore, they had not been away from each other since the battle. The idea of Fíli being somewhere Kíli was not twisted something in his gut. Fíli looked unhappy with the news, as well, his brow furrowed, eyes dark.

 

“It’s fine,” Kíli said softly, touching Fíli’s arm lightly.

 

As much as he loathed to be away from his brother, it wasn’t fair to pout like a child about it; it would only serve to embarass Fíli. If he had to play the role of king, Kíli would be the last person to stand in his brother’s way.

 

“I’ll be back right away,” Fíli promised him, offering a small smile, “Please eat dinner while I’m gone.”

 

Kíli nodded, fighting the urge to grab Fíli and keep him with him, keep him where he could see him and know he was safe.

 

“Be strong, _Ȃzyungȗn_.”

 

Fíli’s answering smile was brilliant and Kíli felt an altogether different type of tug in his gut.

 

“It will be hard without you, _nadadel_ , but I will try.”

 

Fíli’s tone was playful but Kíli knew he meant the words. He was his brother’s other half and Kíli was meant to be at his side. Bofur turned back as he and Fíli left the room, giving Kíli a small, sympathetic smile that he didn’t know what to make of.

 

And then he was alone in what had once been Thorin’s bedchamber. It still smelled of his uncle’s beard-oil and pipe weed. The scent made Kíli choke back a sob, memories of his childhood surfacing, tucked into Thorin’s side, Fíli opposite him, listening to grand stories of Erebor. Now that he was here though, standing deep in the Lonely Mountain, Kíli would give anything for things to be the way they had been. For Thorin to be alive and well. For the strange and painful rift between him and his brother to be gone. But Thorin was walking the Halls of Mandos and Fíli had never seemed further away.

 

_Oh, Aulë, what has happened to us?_

 

Kíli sighed, sullenly picking up the small wooden figurine he had been carving. He stared at it for a moment. He had been planning on turning it into Thorin’s likeness to give to Dís, but he found his hands whittling braids into it that he knew shone brighter than the all the gold in Erebor in the sunlight, a long, proud nose, dimples, and a mouth that Kíli had begun to dream of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nadad - Brother
> 
> Ȃzyungȗn - Loved one
> 
> Nadadel - Brother of all brothers


	2. II

Fíli nodded along with whatever Balin was saying to him, but his mind was wandering dark stone corridors and cavernous rooms with ceilings he could not see, up to a bed chamber that still did not feel like his, to where he knew Kíli waited for him. It was shockingly painful to be away from his brother; he had refused to let Kíli leave his side since they staggered off the battlefield, wounded but alive. No one who had been in the Company batted an eye at Fíli’s insistence that his brother attend all meetings with him, eat with him,  _ sleep  _ with him, but the same could not be said of the steady stream of men and elves and other dwarves in and out of the mountain in the days following the battle. In the days that Fíli had become king. And Thorin had been nothing if not consistent in drilling into Fíli's head the importance of how a king should behave. A king should not bring his little brother with him everywhere, Thorin had told Fíli sternly once, when Fíli insisted on bringing Kíli hunting with them, many years ago. Fíli had heard the same words countless times from Thorin but it was a lesson he could not seem to learn. Would not learn. 

 

_ My place is with my brother.  _

 

But now things were different. Now Fíli truly was king and Thorin had been right. It was not right for Fíli to demand his kid brother be allowed into every council and meeting. It was bad enough they shared the same bed every night. 

 

Fíli thought of Kíli that morning, curled towards him as though he had tried to reach for him in his sleep and been pushed away. Fíli wasn't sure that hadn't happened. He had been trying so hard to keep Kíli at arms length, terrified at the way his body had begun to react to his brother's touch. Somewhere in the months before they had left on their dark journey, and then in the months they traveled, Kíli had transformed from Fíli's baby brother to a man. His frame, which had always tended towards slender, was now all hard planes and flat muscle carved from sword practice and days of walking. His eyes, which had always been bright with curiosity, were dark with knowing now and Fíli mourned the price at which that wisdom had come. Kíli had always been beautiful, dark where his brother was light, but Fíli could not help the way he had begun to look at Kíli as if seeing him for the first time. He saw him as others must - young and startlingly handsome, and oh, Aulë, when he  _ smiled _ . 

 

"My King?" 

 

It took Fíli too long to realize he was the one being addressed. 

 

"Please," he said softly, his chest constricting at the formal tone in which Gloin addressed him, "Don't call me that. Not when it's just us."

 

"Aye, laddie," Balin sighed, "It's a hard title to get used to."

 

"But get used to it you will," growled Dwalin, "It is only right that you are addressed as such."

 

At his brother's glare, Dwalin's stormy expression lessened a bit.

 

"I'm sorry, lad," he grumbled, "I know that none of this has been easy on you. But you are the King Under the Mountain. You must accept the name. It's a title you deserve. You should be proud to be called King.”

 

Fíli fought against the urge to bury his hands in his face. Instead, he offered the members of his council a weak smile.

 

"Then as your King, I command you call me by my birth-name."

 

There was a beat of shocked silence before the table erupted in laughter, Dwalin's the loudest. It echoed off the distant ceilings and it was such a beautiful sound that Fíli felt a genuine smile rise to his lips. He wondered how long it had been since the ancient stones that surrounded them had heard laughter. 

 

“Thought you were supposed to rub off on your brother, not the other way around,” Gloin chuckled.

 

Fíli forced a laugh but his mind had strayed back to Kíli, to his dark eyes, like two pools Fíli could not find the bottom of, to his mischievous smirk that Fíli missed desperately, his deft hands on his bow, the dark hair that had begun to appear on his chest and stomach, trailing down to the only place on Kíli’s body he’d never touched. 

 

Fíli felt something low in his stomach coiling tight at the thought, his arousal making itself known under the heavy blue brocade he wore. He willed away the flush that threatened to overtake his face, trying to focus on Balin’s words as the other dwarves returned to their discussion of the allocation of resources. But all he could think of was his little brother -  _ Mahal, what was wrong with him?  _ \- stretched out on their bed somewhere above him, going to him, mouthing at sharp hip bones and then lower, the hitch Kíli’s breath might make, his clever fingers tangling in golden hair. With difficulty, Fíli pulled himself out of his thoughts, but the damage was done - his face was undoubtedly flushed and he was horribly aroused. 

 

“You alright, lad?” Balin questioned, looking at him in concern. 

 

Fíli cleared his throat. “I am not feeling well, my friends, I apologize.”

 

At once, the other dwarves stumbled over themselves to assure Fíli that it was fine, that he should rest, that they would regroup tomorrow.

 

“Thank you,” Fíli said gratefully, meaning it, as he stood awkwardly, trying to disguise his arousal. 

 

Fíli hurried from the room, his footfalls echoing in the empty corridors. He made his was back to his and Kíli’s bedchamber but hesitated outside the door. He could imagine how he must look; cheeks flushed, cock pressing achingly against his pants, eyes slightly wild - all because of Kíli. His brother. Fíli took a couple of deep breaths, trying to compose himself, before opening the door a crack. The bedchamber was blessedly empty. Fíli sighed in relief, closing the door tightly behind him. He knew his time alone was limited; Kíli could very well be on his way back from dinner already. With that in mind, Fíli shrugged out of his clothes, still foreign in their splendor, letting them pool at his feet. 

 

Fíli worked himself off quickly, biting down on his lip to keep from groaning but unable to stifle his labored breathing and the soft moans that made their way past his lips. He tried to think of one of the dwarven lasses that had let Fíli fuck her when he still lived in Ered Luin. He tried to focus on the memory of her heavy breasts and long red hair. But when he came, spilling onto his stomach with a quiet groan, it was dark hair and long lean muscles that Fíli thought of.


	3. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations at the end of the chapter!

Kíli stared at the closed wooden door, cheeks burning, something warm settling low in his stomach. He had been returning from dinner when a curious sound from behind the bedchamber door made him pause. Having pressed his ear to the door - done a hundred times as child trying to hear what Thorin and his mother had been discussing late at night, Fíli at his side - he had heard soft breathy panting and even quieter moans. When he realized what he was listening to, Kíli’s stomach had done a very strange thing where it felt as though it was trying to twist itself in a knot, but it had been far from unpleasant. Now, still hovering outside the door, giving both him and his brother a moment to compose themselves, Kíli felt shame flush his cheeks darker. What was he playing at, listening to Fíli pleasure himself? And why, in Aüle’s name, were his breeches suddenly tighter? 

 

When Kíli heard Fíli moving around quietly, and his own arousal had quieted, he pushed the door open, plastering a cheery smile on his face. Fíli glanced over, color high on his cheeks which seemed to darken when he saw his brother.

 

“How was dinner?” Fíli questioned, turning his back on Kíli to pour himself some wine.

 

Kíli followed his movements, noticing the slightest tremor in his brother’s hands. 

 

“It was very good. You should have joined us. Bombur ate three whole pies.”

 

Fíli’s lips quirked up as he turned back to Kíli. “Well I would have come down if I knew that.”

 

Kíli hesitated. “How was the council meeting?”

 

They both heard the unspoken  _ that I wasn’t invited to. _

 

“Very dull,” Fíli answered, his smile dimming slightly.

 

Kíli knew he was telling the truth, but he also knew Fíli would have said the same even if it had been interesting. Always trying to protect him.

 

“It was hard being away from you,” Kíli said in a rush, bracing himself for Fíli to dismiss his affection as he had begun to do.

 

Fíli’s eyes widened infinitesimally. He was silent for a long moment and Kíli began to regret saying anything. Then Fíli spoke, his voice low and strained.

 

“I know. It was difficult for me as well.”

 

Kíli made for Fíli but his brother jerked away as if stung. Frustration surged through Kíli.

 

“Why do you not allow me to touch you anymore?” Kíli questioned, voice quiet with hurt. 

 

At his side, Fíli’s hands clenched into fists. 

 

“I do not know what you mean.”

 

Kíli scoffed. “After all these years, you still think you can lie to me, brother?”

 

Fíli sighed, the sound of a boy turned man seemingly overnight. “No, I do not.”

 

Kíli stepped closer and Fíli did not move back this time but he watched Kíli warily, the way a trapped animal watches a hunter. 

 

“Why,” repeated Kíli, in a gentle whisper, “do you shy away from me,  _ Sanûrzud _ ?”

 

Kíli saw Fíli swallow convulsively. 

 

“Kíli, I-”

 

Fíli shook his head in frustration, braids swinging in the firelight. Kíli stepped forward again, close enough now he could see Fíli’s eyelashes dusting over his cheeks as his eyes flicked towards the floor, unable to meet Kíli’s gaze. Kíli closed the gap between them, tangling his fingers in Fíli’s golden strands, pressing himself to his brother roughly. He felt the shudder that ran through Fíli and his own body shivered in response. Somewhere, in a distant part of his brain, a part not wholly consumed by how warm the body against him was and how wonderful Fíli smelled -  _ like home _ \- and how  _ good _ it felt to be this close to him, Kíli was aware that this was not how brothers embraced each other. He shouldn’t want to press his lips to the spot at Fíli’s neck where his pulse fluttered frantically, shouldn’t want to yank Fíli’s hair hard enough to hear the sharp intake of breath he would make, shouldn’t want to hitch Fíli’s tunic up and ghost his fingers over the tense muscles of his stomach. 

 

“ _ Men lananubukhs me _ , Fíli,” Kíli murmured into the soft skin below his brother’s ear, “Don’t push me away.”

 

To Kíli’s surprise, Fíli’s arms tightened around him, pulling Kíli closer, holding him tightly. 

 

“I am sorry,  _ sannadadith _ ,” Fíli whispered, voice pained, “I never meant to hurt you.”

 

“I know, Fíli. And I know Thorin made you think that relying on others makes you weak. But he was wrong. Thorin was  _ wrong _ .”

 

He felt Fíli stiffen at his words and Kíli held him tighter, snaking his hand from Kíli’s hair to the back of his neck, refusing to let Fíli break their contact.

 

“It doesn’t mean he wasn’t a good man or a good leader, but he wasn’t right about everything, Fíli. He didn’t have what we have, not even with Frerin.”

 

“Kíli it’s not that, it’s-”

 

Fíli cut himself off again, leaning into Kíli’s neck instead, mouth resting dangerously close to the hollow of Kíli’s throat. 

 

“What?” Kíli questioned softly, “What is it?”

 

Fíli just shook his head again. The cool beads in his mustache felt as though they burned Kíli’s flushed skin when they brushed across his chest. 

 

“Why can you not tell me, Fíli? We used to tell each other everything.”

 

“It’s nothing to worry yourself about.”

 

Kíli made an impatient sound. “If it bothers you - if it comes between us -  then it is for me to worry about!”

 

Fíli did not respond but Kíli could feel the smile on his lips where they rested against his neck. When he pulled back his blue eyes were soft with some unspoken emotion. Still, he said nothing, only leaning up to press a gentle kiss to Kíli’s forehead. 

 

“Get some sleep, Kíli. It will be a long day tomorrow.”

 

Kíli opened his mouth to protest but now Fíli’s eyes flashed dangerously. 

 

“I will not speak of this any further tonight. You will sleep or you will find another bedchamber.”

 

Kíli’s mouth snapped shut but he glared at his brother murderously. He undressed in sullen silence, throwing his clothes in the corner with enough force to send one of the silver goblets on the nearby table toppling to the floor. Fíli sighed. Kíli turned to scowl at him but his breath caught in his throat.

 

Kíli was pulling his tunic over his head, the candlelight dancing across the sharp planes of his body, the muscles that rippled as he shifted, the faded scars, and the new ones, scattered across his skin turned to gold in the warm light. His hair, soft and honeyed, fell over his broad shoulders, and the words thrummed through Kíli, over and over, like a prayer.

 

_ My Fíli, my Kidhuzurâl _ ,  _ I want you.  _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sanûrzud - perfect (true/pure) sun
> 
> Men lananubukhs me - I love you
> 
> sannadadith - perfect younger brother
> 
> Kidhuzurâl - golden one


	4. IV

That night as they lay together, the soft rise and fall of Kíli’s chest lulling Fíli into a hazy world where he was not quite awake but not asleep either, he wondered what he was going to do. Snippets of old conversations flitted through his mind, fast and fleeting as summer rain.

 

_Protect Kíli, inùdoy._

 

_To have a brother is the greatest gift one could ask for; it is a love stronger than our love of gold and deeper than the mountain_

 

_One day you will be king and you will understand._

 

Dís, Balin, Thorin. Some of the wisest dwarves Fíli ever knew, and yet he was not sure with who the true answer lay. He would spend the rest of his days protecting Kíli - that much was certain. But was he meant to love his brother in the new and often frightening way that he thought he could love him if he was allowed to? Or was he to honor his mentor’s - his King and uncle’s - words? Both instincts raged in Fíli - to love his brother was easier than breathing, but since he was a boy, Thorin had etched the importance of duty deep into his mind.

 

Glancing down to where Kíli’s head rested on his chest, dark eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks, face smooth and placid as it had been before the battle, Fíli couldn’t imagine ever pushing Kíli away, couldn’t imagine that the overwhelming, all-encompassing surge of love he felt was wrong. But still, his eyes strayed to the golden crown that would sit upon his head in the morning, and all of the certainty Fíli had felt when he gazed upon his brother’s face fell away.

 

-

 

Fíli struggled to pay attention to the words being spoken to him. Dain’s voice was imperious but droning, and while Fíli’s _khuzdul_ was quite good, even he couldn’t completely keep up with what Dain was saying. Next to him, Kíli’s eyes had glazed over, a look Fíli knew well. Fíli wanted to laugh but thought that perhaps the middle of his coronation was not the time to do so. Instead, he gave Kíli a small smile. As if he could sense his brother’s gaze - which he probably could -  Kíli’s head turned enough to give a returning smile. He looked so handsome then, like a king himself, clad in the same blue tunic as Fíli, embroidered with silver thread that caught the light and sparkled brilliantly. He had even let Kíli work a couple of braids into his hair, secured with small beads. Kíli had less adornments than Fíli - no intricate silver belt - but that seemed right. Kíli was not meant to be trussed up in jewels and expensive cloth; he was meant to be wild and free. Fíli felt a stab of remorse that his headstrong, untamable brother now had the weight of a mountain on him, same as Fíli. He stood quietly, face blank, no sparkle in his eyes, as he listened to Dain’s speech, and he was so like a wild animal that had been broken and domesticated that it broke Fíli’s heart. He wanted nothing more than to grab Kíli’s hand and make a run for it, run far away from titles and death and burdens. But because he was Fíli, he was _responsible,_ he turned his attention back to Dain, forced himself to listen to the words.

 

And when the heavy golden crown was lowered on his head and Fíli thought it weighed more than the entirety of the mountain, he said nothing. And when the delicate silver circlet was placed on his brother’s head, he ignored the nausea rolling in his stomach. But when Dain proclaimed him the rightful King Under the Mountain, and Kíli his heir, he took his brother’s hand in his and squeezed tight. His blue eyes met brown and Fíli dipped his head slightly.

 

_I’m sorry_.

 

Kíli’s answering squeeze made the crown a little lighter.

 

_I know._

 

-

 

There was a great feast that night, the likes of which had not been seen in the mountain for years. The wine and ale flowed freely and for the first time that day, Fíli let himself relax and enjoy the good food and better company. Kíli must have felt the same, for he was laughing loudly with Oin and Gloin from his place at Fíli’s side. That familiar laugh was the sweetest sound Fíli thought he had ever heard. For a long while he believed he might never hear it again.

 

“How are you holding up, laddie?”

 

Fíli smiled at Balin. “I am well, thank you.”

 

Balin smiled back, his ancient face wrinkling more in pleasure. “I am glad to hear that. We all needed this,” he said, gesturing to the merriment surrounding them.

 

“Indeed.”

 

“And your brother?” Balin questioned quietly, glancing at Kíli.

 

Fíli followed his gaze. Kíli was drinking deeply from a tankard, his braids already unraveled and color high on his cheeks. Fíli frowned slightly, wondering vaguely how much Kíli had to drink already.

 

“He is well, too. As well as he can be now that he’s expected to .  . . behave.”

 

Balin snorted at that. “Somehow I don’t think any amount of expectations will have much of an effect on him.”

 

Fíli smirked. “You’re probably right, my friend.”

 

Balin’s face suddenly turned serious. “I know this is all very overwhelming for you, Fíli. You’re so much younger than we thought you’d be when you took the throne. But you have greatness in your blood; you will be the King Under the Mountain that we need.”

 

Kíli felt a rush of affection. “Thank you, _bâheluh_.”

 

Balin smiled at him again. “Always stay true to yourself, Fíli. You have a good heart, do not let yourself lose it.”

 

“Like Thorin.”

 

Balin’s smile faded. “Thorin had a good heart, too, even at the very end. Even when he could see nothing but the Arkenstone. But he was easily swayed, easily led astray. He had no one to ground him.”

 

Fíli did not miss the way Balin’s eyes drifted back to Kíli.

 

“I will try my very best,” Fíli whispered.

 

Balin’s eyes were soft and sad when they returned to Fíli. He patted his hand gently as he stood.

 

“I know, lad. I know. You do not have to be Thorin; you do not have to do it alone.”

 

-

 

“Mahal help us, Kíli, how much did you have to drink?” Fíli demanded, struggling to support his giggling brother.

 

“Enough that I cannot answer that question,” Kíli snickered, falling against his brother.

 

Fíli grunted at his dead weight. “Start walking or I’m leaving you here, brat.”

 

Kíli’s face dissolved into a pout, a look that had gotten him out of so much trouble that Fíli wondered how one expression could work such magic.

 

“You wouldn’t. I’m your brother. I’m your _heir_.”

 

Fíli rolled his eyes, his stomach twisting at Kíli’s words. “And right now, you’re a pain in my arse.”

 

Kíli’s devilish smile was back in an instant. “I could be if you wanted me to.”

 

Fíli stopped his half hearted attempt to tug Kíli up the stairs.

 

“And what does that mean?”

 

Kíli gazed at, eyes sharpening for a moment, and it was an expression Fíli had seen only once on his brother’s face; when he lay on a table in Lake-town, poisoned by an Orcish arrow, gazing at that she-elf. _Longing._

 

It was gone in a moment, though, replaced by a grayish tinge and Fíli, sighing, held his brother’s hair back as he emptied the contents of his stomach into a nearby vase.

 

It had been a long while since Fíli had needed to help Kíli to bed after a night of too much drinking, but he didn’t mind it. He enjoyed taking care of his brother; it was what he was meant to do. Kíli swayed slightly where he stood, but let Fíli strip him down to his underclothes and sipped nervously at the goblet of water Fíli pushed at him.

 

“Get in bed,” Fíli commanded, undressing himself.

 

Behind him, he heard Kíli acquiesce, stumbling into bed with a groan. Fíli folded his beautiful tunic carefully, tucking it gently away. When he turned around, Kíli was staring at him with that same strange expression, and he was reminded of the way Thorin had looked at the Arkenstone and the vast hordes of treasure. As if he desired it above all else. The thought stole Fíli’s breath. He remained standing for a moment, gazing into Kíli’s eyes, dimmed and glazed with drink, but _hungry_. Fíli’s mouth had gone dry, and although he was tired in a bone-deep way, he was suddenly afraid of crawling in bed next to Kíli, afraid of what he might do to that soft body if allowed, afraid that, with that strange look on his brother’s face, Kíli would allow him anything.

 

And yet, as if in a dream, Fíli stepped towards the bed, Kíli’s dark eyes following his every move. Fíli hesitated at the side of the mattress, but Kíli held out a hand to him.

 

“Fíli.”

 

His voice was low and rough, and the sound of it raised gooseflesh on Fíli’s skin. This time, he did not hesitate when he took his brother’s hand.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inùdoy - son
> 
> bâheluh - my friend of all friends


	5. V

In the dim light of one lonely sputtering candle, Kili traced his fingers gently over the bridge of Fili’s nose, up to his proud brow, relaxed in sleep, and down to his soft lips. Fili grunted but did not wake and for that Kili was grateful. He was enjoying seeing this side of Fili again - the side unconcerned with crowns and mountains. And if Fili woke, they would have to confront what had happened the night before, something Kili wasn’t sure he was ready for. Gently, careful not to wake his brother, Kili continued his finger’s exploration, dragging lightly down from Fili’s neck to the bare patch of stomach between nightshirt and pants, wondering at the hard muscle below. He stopped in the tangles of blond hair above Fili’s hips. His hand stayed there, and Kili was shocked by how much he wanted to slip his fingers below Fili’s waistband and take him in his hand until he woke and came with a soft shudder - 

 

Kili snapped himself out of that train of thought, shocked at where his mind had strayed. And yet, it was impossible for him to deny that nothing had changed between him and his brother last night. Normal brothers didn’t touch like that, didn’t desire each other like that. The moment Fili took Kili’s hand and climbed into bed with him, something unspoken had passed between them. And while Kili was used to not having to use his words around his brother, he wasn’t sure what exactly had been said the previous night. 

  
  
  
  


Fili had crawled into bed like a frightened animal, holding himself away from Kili until Kili had climbed in his lap, wrapping his legs and arms around his brother like he did when he was a child. Fili had tensed before letting his arms fall around Kili, holding him tightly like he might change his mind and flee the bedchamber. They had stayed that way for a long while, silently enjoying the feel of each other. Then Kili had shifted to get more comfortable, freezing when he felt a hardness under him. Fili had gone very, very still and Kili could almost hear his thoughts racing. He began to pull back when Kili, still rather drunk, at least enough to not think about things like consequences very much, nuzzled into Fili’s neck. And then, biting down on his lip, Kili shifted again, this time in a much more deliberate way. His eyes had fluttered closed at the feeling of Fili’s hard length rubbing against his backside. Fili’s shocked intake of breath, and the way his arms tightened around Kili, had Kili doing it again and again until heat coiled tight in his lower belly, and his own cock was stiff. Fili’s breath had turned ragged and, while he remained rigid and unmoving, he did not throw Kili off. He could feel his brother’s arousal under him and Kili rutted into him, his own arousal and intoxication taking over every part of his mind until all he could think about was Fili’s body under him, his smell, his uneven breathing, and how  _ good _ it felt to grind down on him. When Kili let out the smallest whimper, Fili had shuddered, and it was so indecently hot that Kili had only been able to speed up his movements, rewarded by the way Fili started to pant softly into his hair and the barely discernible way Fili’s hips began to roll up to meet Kili’s own rocking ones. Desire snapped white-hot in Kili’s belly, and he thought desperately of pushing Fili back into the bed and crawling up him, of removing underclothing and blowing out the candles, of moving together in the dark in the way that they had never done before and that Kili suddenly wanted more than anything. 

 

And then a knock at the door had them both stilling. After a beat of silence Fili called out, voice oddly high-pitched and strained.

 

“Who is it?”

 

“It’s me,” a hesitant voice answered, “Ori.”

 

“What is it, Ori?” Fili asked, voice cracking a little but not releasing his hold on Kili.

 

“I’m sorry to bother you, but Kili left his crown at the table, I thought I should bring it back.”

 

“Thank you, Ori,” Kili replied, saving his brother from answering.

 

He quickly disentangled himself, immediately missing Fili’s warm body pressed to his, and tried to adjust himself as much as possible before striding to the door and opening it. Ori held out the silver circlet with a smile. Kili returned the smile, accepting it from him.

 

“Thank you, Ori. Dain would have my hide if I lost that.”

 

“Aye, that he would,” Ori replied with a smile, “How are you feeling? You put down more ale tonight than Dwalin and Bofur combined.”

 

Behind him, Kili heard Fili shift at those words. 

 

“I’m fine,” Kili said, trying hard not to slur his words at all, “Hardly even feel it.”

 

Ori gave him a skeptical look. “Right. Well I’ll leave you to it, then.”

 

Kili bade him goodnight and closed the door behind him. When he turned around, Fili was standing in the far corner of the room, face very pale, bordering on ashen. And silence, which was never uncomfortable between the two, descened, and for the first time, Kili was nervous around his elder brother. It was a terrible feeling and so Kili got back in bed, holding the blanket open for Fili to join him. Fili just stared at him and Kili sighed.

 

“Come here, Fili. We don’t have to . . . do anything,” Kili blushed at the words, “We’re both tired, let’s just go to sleep.”

 

Kili could see Fili waver.

 

“Please,” he added, “I don’t sleep well without you.”

 

Fili’s resolve visibly broke and he walked slowly to the bed, joining Kili under the heavy blankets. He snuggled up to his brother, turning on his side to wrap an arm around Fili’s waist, burying his face in the golden, sweet-smelling hair. He felt Fili relax under his touch. Experimentally, Kili slid his finger under Fili’s shirt and traced a finger across his stomach. Kili was dizzy with drink and lust, his erection still straining against his stomach, and although he was aware that the body he was desperate to touch was his brother’s, some essential part of Kili’s brain seemed to have switched off and he found he couldn’t bring himself to care. Fili’s warning growl made Kili pause, though,  and in the end, sleep pulling at his eyelids, he simply splayed his hand across his brother’s stomach, letting himself drift into fitful dreams. 

  
  
  
  


Kili could tell when Fili woke by the way his body went rigid all at once and the soft gasp he let out. Kili remained still, his back pressed to Fili’s side where he had fallen asleep again. He had tried hard to stay awake, so that he could look at his brother in this new way - try to understand it - but when the candle burned away and distant noises began to echo through the stone halls, Kili had drifted off again. As it often worked out, Fili waking up also brought Kili back to consciousness. 

 

Fili stayed still for a moment and Kili restrained a shiver when he felt a brush of fingers, light as air, across the back of his neck. He wanted very much to turn around and work himself into Fili’s arms and tell him that it was okay, that last night didn’t change anything between them, that Kili was stupid and drunk and he was  _ sorry _ but another part of him wanted to turn around and push Fili down into the soft mattress and climb on top of him and finish what they had started the night before.

 

In the end, Kili’s courage failed altogether and he faked slumber until Fili rose with a sigh to get ready for the day. When Kili heard his brother leave for the baths, he got up himself, stretching and following his brother. 

 

Turned out, seeing Fili naked and dripping in water didn’t help Kili to squash the impure thoughts he was having about his brother. From a far corner of the steamy room, Kili watched him, struck by his beauty. Beads of water rolled down his broad shoulders, Fili’s body perfectly well-muscled - Thorin's body without so many silver scars. Flaxen strands clung to his wet skin, braids undone. He looked so unusually wild that Kíli’s heart thudded into an erratic rhythm. Glancing down to the back of Fili's strong thighs, and - Kíli's pulse quickened further, so loud now he was sure it would give him away - the firm swell of Fili's buttocks.  Kili tried to steady his breathing, will his arousal away. Except it would not leave him, only run through his mind, laughing, hiding in a different part of Kili, a part he could no longer shut. 

 

Fill ran his hands through his hair and Kili followed the rippling of his muscles, the droplet that ran from his neck to the two small dimples nestled into his lower back. Kili had a sudden image of going to his brother, dropping to his knees behind him and licking the drop away, tracing those twin grooves with his tongue, tasting Fili's skin, moving to that cleft, tonguing it open and - 

 

Damn. He was hard again. Silently, Kili slipped out of the baths, deciding a wash could wait. 

 

  * \- 



 

Kili wasn't sure but Fili seemed to be avoiding him. Yes, now that his brother was officially King, there was more expected of him. But Fili had always made time for Kili before. But now . . . He hadn’t seen his brother after his brief moment of spying in the baths until lunch. Even then, Fili sat at the far end of the table, head bowed close to Dwalin’s, deep in conversation. He and Kili's eyes had met once but where Kili smiled at him, Fill glanced quickly away. Later, when Kili made his way to the forge, and after that sparring practice with Ori, Fili was nowhere to be seen. Kili even returned to their bedchamber to see if Fili would stop by but he never came. 

 

Kili aimed a half-hearted kick at the bed. His hurt was quickly being replaced by anger. They weren't supposed to  _ do this _ . Kili had no doubt that Fili’s absence had to do with the previous night, but they should be talking about it or fighting it out, not ignoring it. Kili fell morosely on the bed, tried to think of what he would even say to Fili when he saw him. And although Kili knew he should apologize, promise it would never happen again, assure his brother that he was just drunk far different were the words that rose to his mind.

 

_ You’re so beautiful. I love the way you breathe. I want to hear the noise you make when you peak. I want to relearn your body. _

 

Kili exhaled in frustration, his problem from earlier returning. His erection pressed heavy against his thigh, demanding his attention. Kili bit his lip, glancing at the closed bedroom door, before hastily undoing the laces of his breeches and wrapping a hand around himself. He didn’t even bother trying to think of anyone other than Fili. Memories from the previous night flashed through Kili’s mind as he stroked himself. Fili panting hotly against Kili’s neck, Fili’s fingers digging into his side, Fili rolling his hips up to meet Kili’s as though he could not help himself. Then, Fili in the baths, skin slick and flushed. Fili’s labored breathing behind the closed door. Older memories. Kili pressed to Fili’s side in Ered Luin, Bag End, Rivendell, everywhere they had ever been together. Waking with his brother’s hand wrapped around his hip in sleep, just low enough that Kili pulled the blanket higher so that no one else would see. Fili crushing Kili to him after every single close-call on their journey, breathing in the smell of his brother that almost made him feel like he was home again. The time that he had woken tangled around his Fili their first night on the road, skin sticky, their matching hardness pressed into each other. And older still. Watching Fili practice his swordsmanship with Dwalin back in the Blue Mountains, flushed and sweaty, eyes gleaming, a near-feral grin that somehow made him all the more devastatingly handsome. Sliding his hands over Fili’s body the day he truly realized that Fili had left him behind in youth, shedding the lankiness of childhood for strong muscles and braids. The way Fili had looked at him, blue eyes soft, covering Kili’s hand with his own where it rested over Fili’s heart, the way Kili had slid both their hands down to Fili’s stomach, the widening of his eyes, Kili’s first spark of desire. And all the other fleeting moments that occur when one spends their entire life mere inches from another body. They had never spoken of those times. Kili had tried to tell himself that it was just part of their closeness. But - as Kili arched off the bed, spilling across his stomach - this was different. This he wanted to talk about, acknowledge, wanted desperately to follow and see where it would lead. 

  
  



End file.
